Forget-me-not ~ Mary's Eyes

These For-get-me-nots are blooming along the edge of the woods here. Also known as Mary's-Eyes, these sweet, humble, ground covering plants are vigorous self-seeders, turning up where they were not planted. Some gardeners would write them off as an invasive species and to be yanked out. I find them charming in their loveliness and their meaning.

But I want my religion to be much more than admiration: admiration for Jesus, admiration for Mary and the saints, admiration for the natural world. I want my religion to grow-me-up. Grow-me-up religion is a challenge, even a personal threat. It offers a new vision; a new way of thinking and seeing. Maybe Mary had that when at Cana she told Jesus, "They have no more wine." Admiration religion says, "Oh, Mary was so sensitive." But wine in the ancient world of Judaism was symbolic of an alive, creative life with a living God. So get it — running out of wine at a wedding could very well mean that the marital relationship of God with his people is exhausted, empty, run out. In a full length interview some years ago, Pope Benedict XVI said this of the Church in Europe - "It is exhausted." That doesn't mean the priests and nuns are tired from working so hard; it means the religion itself is empty and spent.

This little flower ought to call to mind the many times Jesus asks us to wake up and see. Maybe we need to wake up and see ourselves truly, without deception. A young man, recently relocated, said of his new state, "We're just soft, overfed consumers here." 

In the May 3, 2020 issue of The New York Times Sunday Magazine section there was an article by Linda Villarosa reporting on the racial disparities of Covid-19 deaths in America. Here are two responses that reveal new seeing.

Reading "Who Lives? Who Dies?" brought tears to my eyes as the writer eloquently laid out why African-Americans are at greater risk of dying not just from Covid-19 but from other chronic and infectious diseases, and the impact of these on the families in New Orleans. I have worked as a public health professional for over 50 years and found public health efforts have had little impact on decreasing the health disparities between white and black Americans. Only massive system changes will make a difference, and I see little chance that the American majority is interested in change. Baltimore

What a stunning article. I had to reread many portions to let it all sink in. One of the most incredible ideas is that the stress of being black can affect people so severely. The good coming out of this virus will be people becoming aware of the massive inequalities in the U.S., and the absolute necessity of a health care system for everyone, free to everyone, as a human right. Americans are learning, perhaps for the first time, about other countries and their health care systems. This will certainly be an eye-opener to many.  Mexico City

We're so divided now in this country, someone might say, "Oh, these letters sound like pinko socialism." I wouldn't agree. I'd say they sound like the Gospel of Jesus Christ — the Incarnation — Christmas — the Madonna — the God who made the universe has come into our world with human eyes to show us how to see. See what? Jesus is always looking at people in their vulnerability and loss. Even through infant-eyes, the first people he sees from the manger are the marginalized shepherds — God's anawim (the broken, powerless, empty, bent over ones.)

Intercessions ~ Pentecost Sunday

While red is customarily the Pentecost color,/ all the more,/ the color of Holy Spirit is green./ May we grow and green into the mind of Christ,/ with all of its challenge to change and evolve./ We pray to the Lord.

During the Coronavirus pandemic,/ the rates of domestic violence are increasing dramatically./ We pray for a national healing,/ where there is currently uncertainty,/ and feelings of isolation and powerlessness./ May we be freed of any sense of owning or controlling others./ We pray to the Lord.

For the President of the United States,/ our congress,/ and leaders across the nation./ May they truly care for the people they have sworn to protect in national emergencies,/ sharing sacrifice,/ working to save lives/ and honoring the dead./ We pray to the Lord.

While we pray for those who reveal what is best in us,/ we also pray for those who are resentful,/ filled with ill-will,/ even mockery,/ who politicize this time of grave sickness./ When we say, We are in this together,/ may we mean it./ We pray to the Lord.

The nation is blind to its own original sin of racism./ In the Holy Spirit,/ may we confront our own prejudices,/ be discomforted by this national failure/ and boldly broaden our pro-life witness./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for the more than 100,000 who have died in this country from the Coronavirus,/ and for the loved ones who mourn them./ We ask for the Pentecost gift of comfort and healing./ We pray to the Lord.

Psalm 45 ~ God is my refuge and strength

Verse 1: Look at how this beautiful psalm begins - at once heaping up words to describe God as refuge, strength, helper. To take refuge in God is to trust God. God is reliable. Behind this trust is the belief that God's strength or power are in control: not our menacing enemies (inner or outer), not the troublemakers, nor the people who claim they have absolute power and authority. And God's rule is (as a better translation says) a refuge, strength and help for us. 

Verses 2-3: Now the psalmist spells things out a bit. Even if the earth should rock (is he thinking of an earthquake?) or the waters rage and foam (is he thinking of a category 4 hurricane?) no - much more dreadful than that. Remember, the ancient worldview envisioned the dry land as floating on and surrounded by a watery chaos and that the sky was held up in place by the mountains which served as pillars. So the psalmist is thinking, even if that entire cosmos fell apart, collapsed, (the sky is falling!) imploded, fell apart into utter awfulness—even then God would still be trustworthy. What about our own time? Rising temperatures which will have unthinkably dire consequences, storms of increasing destructive intensity, extinctions of plants and animal species, the creation of new expanses of poverty. And all of this while we have the nuclear capacity to utterly destroy our planet, how many times over now? Even then, the psalmist would say, God is with us as a trusted stronghold.

Verses 4-7: And while all this trouble unfolds, the psalmist imagines humankind will be shaken and in tumult. The words to describe the human collapse are the same words used to describe the cosmic trouble. Everything cosmic and human may be in motion—a kind of swirling trouble—yet the one thing that remains is God's reliably strong presence symbolized by the words, City of God.

This City of God is Jerusalem. And while the Jewish people never believed that God was locked in or confined to Jerusalem, the glorious temple on Mount Zion did house the particular presence of God. Health crisis, financial crisis, international crisis, sex abuse crisis, constitutional crisis: God is to be trusted.

Verse 8: This little refrain calling God, the Lord of hosts may be a reference to the Ark which contained the stone tablets of God's law—the Ark carried on poles and covered with golden cherubim - a kind of throne for God. But hosts can also means armies. Maybe Jerusalem was under attack by outside enemies. "The waters of the river that give joy." But there's no river flowing through Jerusalem, then or now. This is a poetic or metaphoric word—rivers bring assurance. The people will never starve or die of thirst if there's a river nearby. The river referenced here is meant to symbolize yet again, that God is a reliable, unfailing provider, even if the worst un-doing should take place. 

Verses 8-10: "Come, consider the works of the Lord," the psalmist invites. We might remember the apostle Philip inviting Nathanael to come and see. Here the psalmist is inviting us to come and consider how God has provided peace for his people. The words, "be still" don't mean take it easy but would be better translated: "Stop" - as in "Stop, put your weapons down—God is in charge." We're very far away from heeding that holy advice. 

Bottom Line: We live in a dangerous and scary world. And in that world, our presence of God is not a building, however splendid, but the person of Jesus Christ. He's the temple now. "God is with us" is his nickname (Matthew 1:23). To enter and live in the Kingdom which Jesus announces is to enter and live in dependence upon God - to find in God our place of security and trust, instead of in myself, what I own, our purported greatness and military might, the political party and those in positions of power and authority.  

Remember years ago, the new systems of positive thinking? It's not even that. The psalmist has his own version of the worst that can happen and we have ours. He invites us not to fear in the face of it. The angels of Easter morning announced it to the women: "You came here looking for death - he's risen - don't be afraid." This is the very great challenge put before people of faith today: Where do I put my trust?

Columbine ~ Mary's Footsteps

This lovely purple Columbine is blooming near the chapel here. It grows in dappled light under an Arborvitae, so the sun doesn't scorch it. Columbines used to be called Mary's Slippers. I'm thinking maybe it's the flower in bud that more resembles a slipper. Be that as it may, I would finetune it abit and simply call the flower, Mary's Footsteps.

Remembering Mary's footsteps, her Visitation comes to mind — her hastily arranged journey to share with her elder relative, Elizabeth, the  happy new of her pregnancy and her prayer-declaration, "For he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name," Luke 1:49. Another translation says, "The Lord has done marvels for me..." We can all announce that!

I'm color-blind, but the May trees are such a green, even I can see it.

That there is a light spring rain this early morning,

That the bees made the honey for my A.M. tea,

That there are such good people in my life,

That I was taught to read as a young boy,

That I had a wonderful dinner with my sister this week,

That the robin is still sitting on her nest in the peach tree,

That my phone takes photographs,

That this computerized message will go around the world...

   you get the idea.

But there is more. In the Middle Ages the Columbine was considered an important medical herb used as a cure for "pestilence." How appropriate is this for today. The word pestilence usually refers to the plague, but it can also refer to anything that is considered harmful or evil. How un-Christly, when someone thinks of others as a pestilence.  In which case, a heart can be pestilent — poisoned. 

We need to stop wondering so much about other people and give our energies more to recounting the Lord's marvels. There are so many!

Intercessions ~ Seventh Sunday in Easter

Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery ~ France ~ Photograph: Julien de Rosa 

This Memorial Day weekend,/ with a particular remembrance of soldiers and sailors who have died in battle/ or by wounds sustained in battles,/ we ask for a day/ when new names are no longer added to mourn./ We pray to the Lord.

During this time of national sickness,/ born of a disregard for the welfare of others,/ there are accounts of civil unrest,/ threats and violence./ May we be healed of our anger and fear./ We pray to the Lord.

In Mary's spring-month of May,/ we ask to grow into the likeness of Christ;/ to be found among the clean of heart./ We pray to the Lord.

For the safety,/ health and well-being of our families and friends./ For anyone who is suffering loneliness./ We pray to the Lord.

As light continues to increase in our hemisphere,/ we ask for the enlightenment of those who govern and lead — the light of authenticity,/ intelligence,/ compassion and goodness./ We pray to the Lord.

For those who lack health care,/ who share apartments,/ who are unemployed or living in insecurity./  We pray for a more just world./ Where there is cynicism or  discouragement,/ may we add a positive voice./ We pray to the Lord. 

We pray for the more than 97,000 people who have died in the United States from the Coronavirus./ Each of them leaves behind loved ones who are sad./ We pray for them as well;/ for their comforting and strength./ We pray to the Lord.

Praying the Guadalupe Litany During the Coronavirus Pandemic ~ and Beyond

This is a wonderful photograph of Pope Francis when he visited Mexico's Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in 2016.  Juan Diego's tilma is mounted high up on the basilica wall, so everyone can see it. But there is an elevator that allows special guests to visit her in the camarin, the little room where the framed image swings backwards for people to have more intimate space in which to pray. 

When Pope John Paul II visited Guadalupe early in his papacy, he proclaimed the Guadalupe Patroness of the American Hemisphere—that is Canada, The United States, Mexico (which is part of North America), Central and South America. 

Here is a Father Elizondo's splendid litany to the Guadalupe which we might pray during these days of sickness and struggle. The litany might also open us up to the vision of a God-saturated politic in all of its life-dimensions. I would call the litany a short course in Catholic Social Teaching, of which many Catholics are sadly unawares.

Mother of the unborn, pray for us.
Mother of orphans,
Mother of the rejected,
Mother of the unrecognized,
Mother of the powerless,
Mother of the oppressed,
Mother of migrants,
Mother of the marginalized,
Mother of the destitute,
Mother of foreigners,
Mother of immigrants,
Mother of the homeless,
Mother of those considered gift-less,
Mother of those who see no value in their lives,
Motaher of those who have no political influence
Mother of those who have no reason to hope,
Mother of consolation,
Mother of those who say "yes" to Jesus,
Mother of Providence,

From becoming oppressive, deliver us.
From becoming cynical,
From denying options to the poor,
From becoming opportunists,
From becoming deaf to the voices of prophets,
From becoming blind to injustice,
From becoming complacent,
From becoming ungrateful servants,
From becoming arrogant,
From becoming elitists,

Model of love and compassion, may we imitate you.
Model of hope and new life,
Model of evangelization,
Model of simplicity,
Model of justice for the poor,
Enabler of the downtrodden,
Example of receptivity,
Example of humility,
Example of sensitivity,
Bridge builder of cultures,
Respecter of diversity,

Virgen Morena, Dark Virgin, Mother of God, Lady of Guadalupe, we commit ourselves to follow your example, to be life-givers and to be receptive to new life. We will be faithful followers in our love towards the poor, in your desire to give dignity to all people and to treat all the abandoned with tenderness. Let us live with constant confidence that we need not fear when we acknowledge you as our Mother, Mother of God. Grant that we may participate in your plan for new life and give us faith in the daily miracles that you and your Son, Jesus, work in our lives Amen.

What does the robin know?

The Robin is a hardy bird. This one, unable to find worms in the frozen ground has switched to Plan B, looking for berries and other left over fruit in this ice-covered tree. 

Despite night temperatures in the mid 20's this past week, the  robins woke noisily at 4:58 this morning. Their outer rain-shedding feathers, and the fluffy underneath down feathers, keep the bird's body a comfortable 104 degrees. The blood in their legs and feet circulates so quickly, there's no time for it to freeze. 

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wild and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

One pair of robins has built a nest in the flowering peach tree here. I can't help but think they were mistaken, because robins usually make their nests on shelves, under eaves or in a deep bush which affords protective cover. But the robin sitting on the nest by me is sitting right out in the open, exposed to the elements, the disturbance of the oil delivery, UPS trucks and ME, as I take my morning laps.

I thought for sure she'd have abandoned the nest the other night—the arctic blast descending into the Northeast—26 degrees with wind, snow and ice. But come morning, there she was, tail up and looking around for danger, or perhaps her mate who'd bring her something to eat. 

We can say, "Oh that's just her genetic makeup—the robin's programmed to sit on the nest come hell or high water." I expect that's so, but maybe there's more. The stories of the saints are filled with accounts of holy women and men living in harmony and intimacy with animals which seem to know more than we imagine. St. Francis preached to attentive birds and calmed the deadly wolf of Gubbio. Walking along the shoreline, St. Anthony of Padua preached to the fish which sat up on their  tails and listened. St. Seraphim had a bear for a friend.  A lion dug St. Mary of Egypt's grave. Other saints had bees, cats, rabbits, deer and birds in their lives.

Maybe we shouldn't be so quick to write off these stories as just legends. Maybe the animals  have another kind of knowledge and we're the ones who have lost the ability to perceive and value what they know. And if we think it's new age silliness to even consider this kind of intimacy, we might remember in the Genesis story that it was God who commissioned us to name the animals.

So here's my prayer-wish for you, springing from the attributes and imagined knowledge of the ubiquitous robin.


The robin's perspicacity be yours (yikes!)—
  her still-sitting,
  her non-defeat,
  her shedding of the assaults be yours.

The robin's spring arrival, Yes, we can change, be yours—
  her cheer-up-cheerily,
  her courage through the drenching night,
  her steely endurance be yours.

The robin's bright carol be yours—
  her leaning into life,
  her happy gratitude,
  her frozen-ground adaptability be yours.

The robin's singing till sunset be yours,
  her clutch of eggs—divinity blue,
  her running and pausing, running and pausing,
  her Calvary breast-brush against the Crucified be yours.


Perspicacity: insight, perception, wisdom

Intercessions ~ Sixth Sunday in Easter

This week,/ Pope Francis has called for a Day of Prayer for All of Humanity./ We join him,/ interceding for humankind where there is great sickness,/ famine,/ draught,/ war or injustice./ We pray to the Lord.

We ask for world leaders who help people to make sense of what's happening;/ leaders who understand the feelings of people,/ who create trust,/ protect the weak, and model inclusiveness./ We pray to the Lord.

These days,/ we  witness and ask blessings for the heroism of doctors and nurses,/ and the many who provide services to the nation./ We ask a new depth of conscience for those who display selfishness or greed;/ who show little regard for the common good./ We pray to the Lord.

For ourselves and the calming of our anxieties and worst imaginings./ Every day, may we embrace the things that truly matter most./ We pray for those who are shut-in and suffering loneliness and fear./ We pray to the Lord.

Spring announces,/ with its gifts of birth and new growth,/ its melting and warming,/ that we can change./ We ask for that change of heart which overcomes the bitter divisions/ leaving the nation weaker./ We pray to the Lord.

Around the world,/ more than 300,000 people have died in recent weeks from the Coronavirus pandemic./ We pray for them,/ and the sorrowing spouses,/ siblings,/ young children,/ parents and friends they leave behind./ We pray to the Lord.

A Healing Prayer at Bedtime

These monks are at Compline, the last of the seven times they gather each day in their chapel to pray together. Most monks know Compline by heart. It is the prayer that invites the monks to briefly review the day with its twists and turns. 

All monks have a story, and living and working closely with each other, with people they would never have chosen to live, I expect there is more than a little daily damage to repair come evening. We can join them with this Healing Prayer at Bedtime. Many of us were  taught as children to "say" our bedtime prayers. Perhaps we abandoned the practice long ago. I would call this a wonder-working prayer that we may memorize before (or as) we put our own heads on the the pillow each night.

Jesus, through the power of the Holy Spirit go back into my memory as I sleep. Every hurt that has ever been done to me - heal that hurt. Every hurt that I have ever caused to another person - heal that hurt. All of the relationships that have been damaged in my whole life that I am not aware of - heal those relationships.

But Lord, if there is anything that I need to do - if I need to go to a person because he is still suffering from my hand - bring that person to my awareness. I choose to forgive and I ask to be forgiven. Remove any bitterness that may be in my heart, Lord, and fill the empty spaces with your love. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

Daffodil ~ Mary's Stars

April and May are Daffodil months. Here is a row of Daffodils against a blue, spring sky. The trumpet part of the flower is called the corona; the whorl of ray-like petals (called sepals) gives us the  impression of a star. Again, prior to Cromwell's 16th century destruction, all the flowers and herbs of England were named after some aspect of Mary's life. An anonymous Medieval wonder-r with a child-like imagination saw "Mary's Stars" in the daffodil.

Perhaps the flower-namer had in mind the verse from the Book of Revelation 12:1: "A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars."

Is the woman the Church during a time of persecution? Is it pregnant Mary, the Mother of God? And what are the stars? Saint-authors and scholars have named them. But knowing Mary's life in the scriptures and in our own lived experience, we can name the twelve stars too. See what you think. I would suggest however, that at the end of your reading, you go back and put your own name at the head of each line (and change the pronoun if necessary). Why? Because Mary is the first disciple, modeling for us how to be. So, what's said of her, might well be said of each of us, who also long for Christ. Yes?

Before a Cluster of Daffodils—Mary's Starry Crown

Mary, in her rejoicing prayer.
Mary, without arrogant pride.
Mary, in her grateful joy.

Mary, who takes the part of the lowly.
Mary, the garden-like receiver of God's Seed-Word.
Mary, the great believer.

Mary, the Lord's First Disciple.
Mary, of the clean of heart.
Mary, who becomes a House of God.

Mary, who puts herself into God's hands.
Mary, who listens deeply.
Mary, who models our longing for Christ. 

Intercessions ~ Fifth Sunday of Easter

Wild Geranium ~ Madonna's Pins

On Mother's Day,/ we pray for our own mothers and grandmothers/ and any women who have mothered us along the way./ We pray for the world's mothers who are frightened for their children,/ women who are mothers already in their pregnancy./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for those who leave their homes everyday to provide essential services for the good of the sick and the larger community./ For the conversion of those who resist helping in even the most simple ways,/ those who think only of themselves,/ or who have taken to menace and violence in their protest./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray with Pope Francis/ for those who are dying alone,/ without loved ones nearby,/ without prayer or companionship./ We ask blessings for the health care professionals who/ in the midst of their work,/ remain sensitive to this loneliness./ We pray to the Lord.

During this time of global sickness,/ we pray for those who have been elected to serve the health and safety of the people./ May they do so honestly,/ without greed or hidden agenda./ We pray to the Lord.

In Mary's Month of May,/ may we stand with her/ as among the Lord's first disciples,/ growing in our prayer,/ trust,/ inner listening/ and grateful joy./ We pray to the Lord.

The coronavirus epidemic has resulted in food chains disrupted and vast amounts of food being wasted,/ while many people are suddenly finding themselves without insufficient food./ We ask for the creativity and will to resolve these problems./ We pray to the Lord.

Remembering that Jesus died for everyone,/ we pray for the hundreds of thousands of people around the world who have died during this covid pandemic./ We pray for their families and friends who mourn them,/ and for their comforting./ We pray to the Lord.

Marsh Marigold ~ Mary's Smock

This is Marsh Marigold (caltha palustris) blooming at the edge of the old cow pond here. It's happiest when standing in water. Prior to the 16th century English Reformation of Henry VIII, all the flowers and herbs had names with religious connotations—most of them Marian. A few holdovers like Marigold, Lady's Slippers, Lady's Mantle have survived and are still with us, though I imagine few people realize that Marigold is really Mary's Gold, or that the Lady references are to the Virgin Mary.

Anyway, Marsh Marigold used to be called, Mary's Smock. Maybe the plant's broad leaves reminded someone in the Middle Ages of a smock, which is a loose fitting garment that goes over one's everyday clothing to help the worker stay clean. Did homemaker Mary wear one? We might remember in kindergarten or first grade, wearing one of dad's old shirts while standing at the paint easel. When I was a young teacher I had a colleague who wore a smock during the school day to keep herself free of  chalk dust. 

These hundreds of plants, herbs and shrubs having Marian names give evidence of a culture that was permeated with a child's innocent imagination. There's not much room for that kind of religious/spiritual sensitivity today. Our loss!

Perhaps we can ponder this lovely plant, standing in clear water,  with its yolk-yellow flowers, and prayerfully request the protections we need as the word smock suggests.

Protect me, O Lady,

   from the festering wound of resentments.

Protect me, O Lady,

   from that willful ignorance

   which leaves me comfortable and undisturbed.

Protect me, O Lady,

   from carrying weapons in my heart.

Protect me, O Lady,

   from enemies who menace

   or do not wish me well.

Protect me, O Lady,

   from depressive fatigue

   which weakens right relatedness.

Protect me, O Lady

   from the inner arguments—

   fighting for recognition

   and winning.

Protect me, O Lady,

   from the loss of Holy Spirit,

   stealing away creativity,

   zest for life,

   even my prayer and love for God.

And protect us, O Lady,

   for a great nation,

   empire,

   culture or civilization

   can come to ruin,

   not by outside enemies

   but from within.

Rivulet ~ A Kind of Magnificat

It is the start of May—Mary's Month. Back in December of  2018 I put up a post about the wide stream that runs through and around the property here. I didn't know what to call it, contrasting it with narrower or wider watercourses: stream, streamlet, brook, rivulet, rivoletto, runnel or rill? Then the other day, after a week of rain, I came upon this very much smaller stream of water running out of the hill which was saturated and overflowing. Here's the one minute video I made you might enjoy. Be sure your sound is on.

What a way to begin Mary's Month: Mary, who lived in obscurity. And I wonder if anyone has ever seen this stream before? Has anyone stopped to admire it or been seized inwardly by its simplicity and beauty? Does the stream know how it pleases me?

The rivulet is an overflow, as is the start of our great story: The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary. (Luke 1:26). Then a very wonderful conversation follows about a holy child's conception. Upon the angel's departure Mary swings into action and goes off hurriedly, through the desert's ups and downs, twists and turns, (like human history and the history of our own lives) to share the happy news (as women do) with her elder relative, Elizabeth.

It's here that Mary overflows (stream-like) in her great, joyful poetic prayer we call the Magnificat.  "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit finds joy in God my savior...God who is mighty has gone great things for me..." Luke 1:39-56. In not a few ancient cultures, women, while working with each other, break into spontaneous songs. Did you ever compose or sing your own Magnificat? We talk a lot about mystery—the presence of God so close we might well miss it. Mightn't we be the people known for our own magnificats?

Look again at the one minute video. Observe everything: the bubbles, the reflected light, the tufts of grass that have found their way to the water, the bright moss, the water's descent, the placement of rocks, the sound of the water's movement. The rivulet is a kind of magnificat. The world needs people today who are good at singing their own Magnificats—listeners and wondering observers of presence and beauty, overflowing in trust and hope.